He's Just a Neighbor
by CheeryEmo
Summary: Arthur just so happens to be a social out cast. Everyone besides his parents absolutely loathe his very existence. He ends up spending almost every day trying to convince himself that he is not lonely. Then one day during summer break, some new neighbors move in. Not that Arthur cares.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Hetalia does not belong to me.**

 **Okay, so now I'm in the middle of writing three stories. Of course, that's fine by me. Anyways, this story takes place in a small town. Maybe there are people out there who can relate, but I've lived in one most of my life, and I absolutely hate it. Well actually, it's not too bad, so I can't say I hate it that much. That is, if you don't mind the problems that can come along with it. Based off of my own experience, most of the people in a small town tend to have a dead end way of thinking, and since everyone happens to know each other, rumors are easily spread. Also, walking down the street can feel as if you're the last man on Earth. On the bright side, you do get to have a lot of time for yourself, and it's never too noisy outside. These two factors create a nice writing environment if you ask me. Just thought I'd explain this to those of you who don't know what it's like.**

 **Also this time, I made an outline of every single chapter. Unlike my previous stories, I should be able to write chapters a lot more effectively, instead of just knowing how the story begins, what the conflict is, and how it ends.**

 **Triggers: Bullying and small town people (not the good type either)**

 **Of course, reviews would be lovely. :)**

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Only a week had passed since summer vacation began, and Arthur was already bored out of his mind. Sure, he had plenty of books to read, sketch books to draw in, and could easily surf the internet on his computer, but none of those privileges seemed the least bit entertaining to him at the time. During the eighth grade, it had always been the same thing. Wake up, eat some breakfast, go to school, receive ridicule and threats from peers, continue to suffer through the lessons in a bored fashion, go home, eat dinner, and spend the rest of the day alone. Arthur was utterly exasperated with his uneventful life. The lack of positive action was enough to make him extremely depressed at times. Arthur continued to stare out the window, where he watched his new neighbors move in, and sighed, "I wish there was someone in this town I could hang out with, but what does it matter? I'm an introvert anyways, right? Exactly. I don't need any friends, I'll do just fine on my own."

Yet Arthur could feel a pang in his chest as the empty sensation that occupied him continued to develop. It was almost as if his body was mocking his lonely state. Eventually, he decided to lie down on his bed, and stare at the ceiling. The scene outside only caused the hole that grew in the pits of his chest to expand. Based on his observations, there was a married couple moving in, and a possibility of some children. Well, perhaps there weren't any young children. The couple did look as if they were in their forties, and based off of this one factor, Arthur assumed that if his new neighbors did in fact have any sons or daughters, they would be somewhere around his own age. Not that he cared, of course.

Seconds became minutes. Minutes became hours, and by the time his room gained an orange tint from the rays of a setting sun, Arthur decided to stretch from the bed, and glare out the window once more. His day had been completely wasted, and he loathed it. Despite the fact that he had absolutely nothing to do. Seeing that the new neighbors were no longer outside, Arthur decided to go out for a quick walk around the block. Maybe he just needed some fresh air. After all, he had been sitting in his room all day.

As soon as Arthur opened the front door of his house, he quickly used one of his hands to shield his eyes, and squinted from the overpowering sun's light assaulting his pale, verdant orbs. A few minutes passed before Arthur could finally uncover his eyes, but he was still squinting. That didn't matter to him, for his eyes could never adjust to such bright lights, and he was used to it. Arthur continued to observe the trees around him. Their beauty certainly did seem to carry out an inspiring scene for him, and it was enough to bring back a lively spark in his dull spirit. He continued to walk down the sidewalk, completely oblivious to everything in his surroundings aside from the trees. However, the moment was ruined when he turned the corner, and something clashed into him. The impact of the collision caused him to fall face forward onto the cement.

Arthur groaned as his nose began to sting. All he heard was a gasp, and felt someone help him stand up. When he caught sight of the individual who had helped him up, he couldn't help, but stare at him with a stunned expression. There stood a teen aged boy who was slightly taller than him. One that he's never seen before. The teen had blonde hair that flamed like a miniature sun, there was a natural glow to his flawless skin, and his eyes were an ideal, piercing shade of bright blue. There was no doubt about it, Arthur had never laid his eyes on such a beautiful individual. It was enough to make him want to claw at his own skin, and scream in a fit of pure envy. Not the easiest urge he had to hold back. The stranger examined Arthur, and stated with a frantic twitch, "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to ram into you like that. And- oh my god! Your nose is bleeding! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Arthur glared at the teenager, ignoring the fact that his blood was threatening to drip onto the sidewalk, "Now get your hands off of me."

"Hold on a second," The stranger turned his attention towards his pocket, ignoring Arthur's snappy retort, "I think I might have a small thing of tissues in here somewhere. Oh, yes! There it is."

The stranger handed Arthur a plastic package full of tissues. It was obvious that the package had never been opened, so Arthur assumed that the tissues inside would be sanitary, and decided to take one before returning the remaining tissues to the other teenager. As Arthur began to properly care for his bloody nose, the other teen smiled, and greeted, "My name's Alfred. What's yours?"

Arthur continued to glare at Alfred as he thought with annoyance, _Oh great. A hyperactive American who acts much too friendly. This is definitely the last thing I need right now._ His response was much more snappy than he intended, "Why do you care about what my name is? It's not like we're ever going to see each other ever again!"

Alfred couldn't help but laugh at this statement, "I don't know, this town looks pretty small. I think we will see each other again."

"Fine," Arthur scowled, "My name's Arthur, but I still don't see why you'd be so interested in knowing who I am."

"Arthur," Alfred mused, and then continued to chuckle, "I like that name. It seems to describe you perfectly, and it's definitely a better name than Alfred. Seriously, who in the world would even consider calling their kid Alfred? Especially in this day and age."

Arthur failed to find the humor in the American's statement. He waited patiently for Alfred to recover from his fit of laughter, and the taller of the two finally continued onto a new subject, "Anyways, what are some things you do for fun? You look like you'll be going into high school soon. Are you going to join the football team?"

 _Oh gross. American football._ Arthur cringed at the idea of joining such a brutal sport, and answered, "Bloody hell no. That has to be the worst sport ever conceived."

"Ha! How did I not see that response coming?" Amusement flashed in Alfred's eyes, "You're too small to play a sport like football anyways."

Sure, Arthur was not too fond of the sport, but the comment still stung. Alfred continued to ramble on, "Seriously, what are some things you're into? I doubt you're into any sports. What are your friends like?"

Arthur flinched at the last question, and replied bitterly, "I don't have any friends, and I don't need them. If you're so intent to know what I do during my free time, I'll have you know that I only do simple things such as reading for hours on end. There's absolutely nothing I do that would entertain the company of another person."

A dejected aurora radiated from Alfred as he responded, "Oh Arthur, I'll be your friend."

"I already told you, I don't need any friends," Arthur grumbled, "Besides, there are more interesting individuals in this town you could go befriend. You shouldn't hang out with someone as boring as me. You'll become so unpopular by the time high school starts, and it's just not worth it."

"I was never a popular person at my old school," Alfred assured, "So it will be worth it. We'll just both have something in common, and neither of us will have to start the school year as loners."

Arthur glanced at Alfred with uncertainty, and stated, "You seem really determined to become my friend."

"Why not?" Alfred explained, "You're extremely interesting, whether you want to believe it, or not."

It felt as if the conversation was now dragging on, Arthur just wanted to return to his bedroom, and never leave it's barriers again for a whole three months. Trying his best to conjure up an excuse to flee from Alfred's company, he affirmed, "It's getting much too hot outside. Can we just go home?"

"Already?" Alfred questioned, and when Arthur nodded, he sighed, "Well, do you think we could hang out some time soon?"

"Maybe," was all Arthur said before they began to make their way home. By the time Arthur was about to walk up to the front door of his house, he heard Alfred shout out in excitement, "Wait a minute, I live right next to you! We're neighbors! Oh this is going to be so much fun!"

Arthur just rolled his eyes, "Well of course we're neighbors, git."

"I swear," Alfred began, quivering with exaggerated exhilaration, "If you're going to be a freshman next year as well, my life will be complete."

At this statement, Arthur rested his forehead against his hand with great vexation, _Great. Not only is he my neighbor, but he'll also probably be my classmate. Why does this blasted world hate me so much?_ He sighed, trying to ease the headache that was threatening to come, "Yes, I'm going to be a freshman. I suppose this means you're a freshman as well?"

Alfred nodded, "This is going to be so awesome! Well, I'll see you soon, bye!"

"Good bye," Arthur replied with a monotone, and quickly entered his house to add in a whisper, "and good riddance."

He stood there with his back against the door, as if he had barely managed to escape an agonizingly fatal death from a serial killer. By the time he regained his composure, he headed towards his room, ignoring the delicious aroma that came from the kitchen. Arthur was much too agitated to eat dinner at the moment. Once he was inside of his room, he laid down on his bed and began to stare at the ceiling once more. This time it wasn't out of boredom, but instead, he was lost in his vast world of thoughts. _Why did that stupid American have to move next door to me? I already have enough problems with the people in this town._

Then he sighed as a realization hit him, _Well, I suppose it's better to have him as a friend than to have him as an enemy. Lord knows I already have plenty of feuds going on in my life. Though I wish he would just leave me alone. Perhaps I'll find a way to stop the git from pestering me. One of these days._ He rolled over to curl up, and lay on his side, suddenly becoming curious, _Why in the world was Alfred running before he crashed into me anyways? He's already in shape._ The answer came to him anyways, and he couldn't help but mutter to himself in utter disappointment, "Bloody idiot. He's practicing his skills for the stupid football team."

Arthur snuggled under the blankets on his bed. His thoughts were becoming bitter, _Ugh, I really wish I didn't have to spend four more years with Francis and his trio getting in the way of my life. I already had to put up with them throughout elementary and middle school. Even during pre school. That would have never happened if this town wasn't so bloody small._

He thought back to the many times he had been singled out in front of all his peers. As the years passed, Arthur had realized that the bullying had only managed to become worse, and showed absolutely no signs of waning. Then he remembered what the multiple posts he had read on the internet told him, and tried to reassure himself, "Well, a lot of people who have been through middle school and high school have said that middle school was their least favorite part of their time as a student, and that high school will be better. Besides, my parents have told me that the higher the education is at a school, the better people will be, so surely I must have experienced the worst of it already, and have nothing to worry about."

Eventual, Arthur became much too frustrated to keep the thoughts to himself, so he retrieved one of his notebooks, and opened up to a fresh page. There were no stories being written in the journal, nor was it being used for any organized purpose such as containing outlines. Instead, it was a journal he would use to express his emotions. Of course, he didn't consider it a diary because for one, he was a male, not a female, and two, the journal didn't just contain entries about recent events in his life, but also had a fair share of poems, and quotes. Arthur was ashamed of the fact that he was into writing quotes and poems, but no matter how much ignominy there was to the social taboo, he still enjoyed it none the less. No matter how 'feminine' or 'emo' his peers considered it, Arthur could never stop this hobby.

Arthur grabbed a pencil from the pencil box he also kept under his bed, and began to write:

 _June 15th, 2015_

 _Well some new neighbors finally moved into that house that's been empty for almost two years now, and I just so happened to meet one of them. He was a teenager, and his name was Alfred. I'm not sure if he has any siblings or not. Hopefully he doesn't, because one other teenager in the neighborhood is already too much for me to handle. I just don't understand why he already thinks we're friends, since we've only known each other for about an hour by now. Seriously, there's no way I can be friends with him. Isn't there any way of avoiding it?_

Arthur thought about a solution for a moment. When an idea finally came to him, he continued:

 _Actually, it should be quite simple avoiding him. I just won't talk to him, and I definitely won't hang out with him. Sure, it's a hostile move, but maybe he'll eventually get the hint and just leave me alone. I mean, he is a git, but he can't be stupid enough not to pick up on a social que as simple as this one. Besides, he won't become my enemy. He'll just forget about my existence, and I'll never have to worry about him again. Well, maybe he won't entirely forget about me, but it's obvious what I mean._

 _Okay, so maybe this isn't the greatest idea. Well, since he could end up becoming friends with Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio. Then again, what would be the loss in that? I mean, surely that stupid trio will learn to grow up, and leave me alone. It's just like what the people on the internet said. Sure, it's possible that they've candy coated the whole situation, but I'd rather not indulge myself in such dread. Therefore, I'll go along with it. Besides, if they don't lay off, I WILL make them regret ever being born. This time I seriously mean it._

Arthur closed the journal, and shoved it under his bed along with his box of writing utensils. Now smiling to himself, he turned over, so that he was laying on his back. As he continued to stare at the ceiling, he announced quietly, "Well I think that plan ought a do the trick. Looks like I'll be alone this summer."

As quickly as the glee came, it disappeared. Only to be replaced with that of a desolate aura. Arthur's voice cracked as if he hadn't used it in quite a while as he whispered, "Alone. That's what I'll be. Quite a blessing if I do say so myself."


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: There will be A LOT of dialogue in this chapter, and we all know perfectly well that too much dialogue can just be downright annoying.**

 **I did try to find a way to make this violation in the laws of writing more bearable. Hopefully it will work out, but if not, well just keep in mind that this chapter did hold some relevance to the plot.**

* * *

After a few days had passed since his unexpected meeting with Alfred, Arthur once more found himself sitting on his bed, and staring at a wall out of pure boredom. Of course, he tried out multiple strategies in order to find a way to entertain himself, but nothing seemed to work. Much to Arthur's resentment, it was clear that his first plan on avoiding Alfred simply wouldn't work. Instead, he figured that he would have to be careful not to cross Alfred's path whenever he decided to leave his house. If nothing else worked, Arthur reckoned that he would just have to tell his new neighbor to stop hanging out with him, and he planned on doing so with as much apathy as possible.

Once Arthur was absolutely sure that Alfred would not be going outside anytime soon, he quickly changed his clothes into something more suitable for the humid summer weather, and walked out into the front yard of his house. Yet again, he was faced with another conflict, _Well, I'm outside, so now what should I do? Maybe I could take a hike in the woods, or walk around town just for the heck of it. Okay, the second option is definitely out of the question. Who knows, if I walked around town, I might encounter that stupid frog and his idiot friends. Well, into the woods I go then._

Arthur was about to make his way towards the nearby forest that happened to be a few blocks away, but immediately refrained from moving as soon as he saw Alfred walk outside. It didn't take long for the shock to alter into that of ire as his thoughts became rapid, _Oh come on! That idiot just went inside about ten minutes ago! Why is he out here now!?_

Alfred did not take notice of Arthur right away, so the Brit decided to flee back into the safety of his house. If the situation wasn't already going against Arthur's desires, it was now, for Alfred did eventually perceive his neighbor's presence, and as soon as he did so, he called out, "Oh hi Arthur! Do you want to toss this football back and forth with me?"

The grunt of annoyance that Arthur produced was nearly inaudible, but nonetheless, it was still present. After all, he had almost managed escape Alfred's field of view, just so close to the point where the effort that was deposited into it ended up going to waste. It was definitely not one of Arthur's finest moments, and did nothing more than create more animosity within him towards his new neighbor. A few moments passed before Arthur finally decided to break the awkward silence that was beginning to develop, "Absolutely not. I have plans that I'd rather attend to than to play some silly game with a ball."

"Oh come on, it'll be fun." Alfred enticed, "Hey, I'll even make my throws softer for you, since you are very scrawny."

"Scrawny!?" Arthur's face began to flush, he felt as if he was about to lose it just from that one comment, "Yes, I understand that I'm a little underweight, but not to the point where I can't even handle catching a ball from a so called 'athlete'."

At first, Alfred just stared at Arthur with a straight face before he began to burst out laughing. The reaction was just too much for Arthur to stomach, and in his frustration, he could feel his throat tighten as tears began to accumulate in his eyes. By the time Alfred was over his hysteric laughter, he gazed at Arthur once more, and the smile on his face immediately vanished when he realized that he just reached the constraint of the Brit's displeasure. Alfred tried his best to sound reassuring, "Hey, I was only teasing. Of course you can handle catching a ball, and it doesn't matter how strong the person is when they throw it to you."

Arthur ignored the desperate flattery as he demanded with a glare, "Just toss me the stupid football."

Alfred obeyed, and threw the football to his 'friend'. What happened next was not something he would've ever expected the Brit to do. As soon as Arthur caught to football, he violently whipped it with as much force as he could muster. The result couldn't have been more amusing to Arthur. The football slammed right into Alfred's face with a loud clonk, which ultimately resulted in the American clumsily falling backwards onto the sidewalk. Arthur couldn't help but chortle as he watched Alfred slowly stand up once more with a groan of pain. By the time he had fully recovered from the impact of the blow, Alfred complained, "Well geeze Artie. What the heck was that for?"

Arthur scowled in response, "Don't call me that!"

"Seriously dude," Alfred continued, ignoring Arthur's response, "That was uncalled for. Do you just not want to be friends with me or something?"

"You've finally figured it out, you twit," Arthur snarled, "Of course we're not friend. We could never be friends. Here, why don't I explain this to you in a way that will help you understand the situation? Think of a cat and a dog. I'm the cat, a more calm, and sophisticated individual, and you're the dog, the hyperactive idiot who decides to ruin everything. We have absolutely nothing in common, therefore, we would never get along. Did that make any sense to you, or am I going to have to simplify it even more?"

For quite a while, Alfred gave Arthur a blank stare as he held the football. Then suddenly, he threw the ball, and yelled, "Heads up!"

Arthur quickly dodged the football with a tiny yelp, and then turned to glare at Alfred, "Did you even listen to a word I just said, or did you already forget!?"

"Arthur, I remember everything you said," Alfred answered, and then added with a smile, "It's just that one analogy you used with the cat and the dog. After hearing that description, it's hard for me to take you seriously. Don't you think the way you described us was a little, strange?"

"Strange!?" If Arthur hadn't been enraged by the taller teenager, he was now, "That description was not strange! It was merely a form of literature! Nothing you'd understand, of course."

"No no, I didn't mean it in a bad way," Alfred tried to elaborate, "You did portray us in an accurate, but offensive to me, way. I knew exactly what you were trying to communicate, but it's just not something I would expect a teenager to say. You know what I mean?"

"Oh," Arthur felt his expression relax, and added timidly, "Well, there are quite a few people who know me for going above and beyond the standards of the average teenager when it comes to literature, and what not."

Alfred nodded his head with interest, and stated, "Sometimes, I kind of wish that I was good at writing, but the problem is that I can't sit still for long periods of time. That's why I prefer sports. It's all because of my ADHD I tell ya."

Of course, Arthur obviously knew that Alfred was much too hyper for his liking, but the fact that he had attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder still somehow managed to surprise him. Then a rather rude question popped into his head. He knew it wouldn't be wise, but risked asking it anyways, "Have you ever tried taking some pills to control your disorder?"

"No," Alfred answered casually, completely undeterred by the question, "I would never remember to take them. Besides I don't really care if I have ADHD or not anyways. Say, would you mind passing me the football?"

Arthur complied to the request without a single complaint. It was completely unlike him, especially since he didn't even mind _touching_ the football. None of this seemed to phase him at all, but what did end up surprising him was when as soon as Alfred received the football, he immediately threw it back to Arthur with much force. Sure, it startled Arthur, but instead of dodging it this time, he caught it, and stumbled back a bit. He threw the football back, not wanting to be outdone by some American.

The football continued to fly back and forth between the two teenagers, and it didn't take too long for Arthur to realize that he was, in fact, enjoying the simple game. Once he viewed the activity as being repetitive, but that was only from his experience of watching his peers participate in it back when he was in elementary. Now that he was actually playing the catch game with someone else, his perspective changed. _Wow,_ Arthur thought in awe, allowing himself to smile, _I never thought a game as repulsive as this one would actually be so much fun! It was so narrow minded of me to assume that a pastime such as this one would've been utterly boring._ Alfred caught the football once more, and announced with a slight grin, "Hey, you're actually smiling for once!"

Arthur forced his smile to disappear as he retorted, "Yeah, so what?"

"I just knew I could get you to do it," Alfred beamed, and then asked, "Do you think we could go somewhere nice, and get to know each other better?"

"Well," Arthur began, "I know of a nearby park. Not one of those parks that kids play at, but it's more of a clearing of grass with a few trees, and some benches."

Alfred smiled, "That sounds nice, lead the way!"

While Arthur led Alfred to the park, he began to glance around at the scenery around him. It was simply a habit of his to become lost in thought while staring into the background. After all, it did grant him some ideas for stories he enjoyed writing in the past. He enjoyed having such creativity, and sometimes, he would wonder why exactly it had been sapped away from him in the middle of eighth grade. By the time they were almost to the park, Arthur looked at Alfred to find that he was currently checking out his surroundings, just as his British friend had. Of course, he did it for a different reason. The obvious reason being that he was just becoming familiar with the new town.

Arthur and Alfred decided to sit down on the first bench in sight. Once seated, Alfred inquired, "So what do you like to do for fun?"

Dread began to prick at Arthur's spine. If there was one thing he absolutely abhorred, it was answering questions about his personality. The shorter teen attempted to steady the nervous quiver in his voice as he answered, "Well, I do enjoy reading, and writing stories. You know, nothing that would urk any interest."

Much to Arthur's relief, Alfred had once more failed to detect the mood of the situation. Therefore, he did not take any notice in Arthur's timid behavior. Instead, he decided to keep the conversation going, "How much time do you usually spend writing?"

 _Did he just continue the conversation as if I'm not socially inept?_ Arthur thought as a pleasant shock passed through him, _Wow. I actually played the social game correctly for once. This is the first functional conversation I've had with someone my age since sixth grade. The first conversation in quite a while that I actually seem to be enjoying!_ Arthur began to feel himself quiver with excitement, but the exhilaration was soon replaced by a wave of embarrassment when he realized how awkward he must've been acting, _Great, I'm getting excited over nothing. I need to control myself before Alfred starts having second thoughts about being my friend. Even though he already is a rather unusual individual himself._ Regaining his composure, Arthur answered the question as casually as he could, "Well, it depends. There are times when I am struck with an endless amount of inspiration, and will end up spending four hours during a school day just writing a story. Then there are times when I can't even think up one unique sentence for the life of me."

"Wow, you seem to be really dedicated to your stories." Alfred nodded his head in awe, and then perked up as he began to speak what seemed to be a million miles per hour, "So what types of stories do you write? Is there a genre you absolutely hate? When did you begin to write? What was the longest story you've ever written? How many words make up one page? What was the best-"

"Alfred, shut up!" Arthur commanded, and then added in a softer tone after Alfred went silent, "I realize that you extremely inquisitive, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, but please try to slow down with the questions."

"Oh," Alfred replied, slightly embarrassed, "Sorry about that."

There was a moment of silence as Arthur began to study the few trees that occupied his surroundings. This time however, the trees had brought him memories of Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio, instead of the usual inspiration they were always believed to provide. Perhaps it was the conversation with Alfred that had triggered some of the negative thoughts, but Arthur could not find it in himself to place the blame on the innocent American. Even if the blame would of never been expressed in anyway, he still didn't think it'd be ethical. _Actually,_ Arthur began to consider, _maybe it would be a good idea to inform Alfred of that stupid trio. After all, he's new here, and still needs to learn some things about this town._ Returning his gaze towards Alfred, he began the new topic, "By the way, there are three teenagers in this town known as Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio, or as some people call them, the Bad Touch trio. They're extremely popular, for whatever reason, and they definitely aren't worth your time, so by all means, just avoid them if you can."

Alfred slightly tilted his head to the side as he asked, "Did they do something terrible?"

"I can't say that they're terrible people. I just happen to hate them with a burning passion." Arthur explained, and then added, "Just in case you happen to see them before you speak to them, Francis is French, and has long, so called 'beautiful' golden locks. Gilbert is an albino, so I think it will be easy for you to pick him out of a crowd in this small town. Lastly, there's Antonio. He's a Spaniard, and is a little dark compared to his friends. I actually don't hate him, since he doesn't really seem to cause any harm, but that doesn't mean I like him."

"Wow," Alfred chortled, "I thought you were the only one around here who wasn't American."

Arthur couldn't help but laugh as well. Once he managed to regain his composure, he replied with a giggle, "Believe it or not, there are actually a lot of people in this town who came from different countries."

"Screw logic," Alfred declared, "Let's just cram everyone in the world into this small town!"

Arthur gripped his stomach as a harsh fit of laughter erupted through his body. The guffaw between the two lasted for what seemed to be a few minutes before they finally managed to settle down. Wiping a tear from his eye, Arthur thought giddily, _For the longest time, I actually believed that Francis had successfully stomped out my sense of humor. I haven't laughed so hard at such a 'stupid' joke in quite a while now. Okay, maybe the wording of the joke was a little strange, but I don't care. The concept was funny enough._ Alfred brought Arthur from his thoughts as he inquired, "So how come you hate Francis and Gilbert?"

Arthur immediately became wroth when the question was asked, but answered anyways, "It's hard not to hate someone when all they ever did the entire time you knew them was strike havoc on your life, and constantly try to diminish anything that gives you any joy. Not to mention, constant humiliation. For what good reason do these two idiot insist on using in order to back up their hatred towards me? It's because I'm apparently "never going to have any friends'. I know, they have an invalid argument."

"Geeze Artie," Alfred exclaimed, "they go through all that trouble to pick on you, just because they think that you'll always be friendless? If those two are popular, then what type of people live in this town?"

"Not everyone in this town is terrible," Arthur explained, "It's just that no one our age wants to get on that stupid trio's bad side. Some of the adults around here can actually be quite friendly."

Alfred glanced at his watch, and complained, "Oh crap. I forgot that my parents wanted me to help them rearrange some furniture, and I was only suppose to be out here for half of an hour. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Okay, good bye then." Arthur replied, and then mentally added, _He seems to be alright. A lot better than I thought he'd be._


End file.
